Love and Respect
by Anon007
Summary: Moving from a village to a city is never easy - especially if most of said village is seemingly stuck in the 1950s. Add in a spoiled rich kid who seems to have taken to his French heritage a bit too much and you could probably understand why Alfred F.J. Kirkland is having a bit more trouble getting used to certain things than others. CanAme, FrUK. Rated M for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Love and Respect by Anon007

Pairing(s): Future CanAme and FrUK, maybe more to come.

AN: IMPORTANT NOTICE! This is my first story (for anyone else to read anyways so forgive the sucky portrayal). I'm also not the most punctual so don't expect quick updates and I lose inspiration at a quick-ish rate so if anyone knows any nice CanAmeCan story that isn't in my faves list point it out please? Also Reviews and Constructive Criticism are highly appreciated.

Warnings: AU, Possible yaoi later on (maybe), CanAme, FrUk...and that's all I can think of right now.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Many Thank You's to my beta **Willowfur and Piper**

Chapter 1

"Alfred!" an accented voice called from a corner in a small house in a practically stuck-in-the-past village in what the inhabitants of said house (mostly Alfred) liked to privately call 'Nowhereville, USA' because of its distance from any other town or city.

Sky-blue eyes looked up from the newly-made and newly-broken toy they were examining.

"Yeah?"

"Could you come here for a few minutes lad?"

"Sure thing dad!" Alfred chirped and, with a ruffle to his 'daughter's 'jet black hair and a promise to try and fix her toy later, took off to his father's sitting room. (Which really wasn't all that much of a sitting room, just a small chair and side table and a tiny bookshelf, all handmade, in a corner of the house near the window.)

Arthur Kirkland let a sigh of pure weariness escape slightly chapped lips after he called his now twenty-year-old son to his corner of the house, running his hand through his blond hair.

Bright Green eyes surveyed the slightly cramped area consisting of only a bookshelf with well-worn books, from the amount of times read to age to their being second-hand ,from _The Lord of the Rings_, _The Time Machine_ and _Sherlock Holmes_ and to more child-suited books such as _The Cat In The Hat_, _The Lion King, Harry Potter_ and _The Bartimaeus Trilogy ,_ and a side table (and of course his rocking chair but he couldn't actually properly view it as he was sitting in it).

All unpainted and in need of a serious polishing and sanding. (Especially the chair he was sitting in. There were some bumps with serious splinter-potential rubbing against his back and rear). Heck their entire wooden house was unpainted and in need of fixing up never mind what was inside.

All of that was about to change, Arthur mused, licking his lips and staring at a letter in his hands.

"You called, Eyebrows?" Alfred asked, walking around the bookshelf to face his father, now termed 'Eyebrows', and subconsciously pushing his wire-framed glasses up his nose as he did so.

One of the referenced 'Eyebrows' twitched in irritation.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Arthur asked through gritted teeth, making it sound more like a statement, "It's either 'Arthur', 'Father', 'Dad' or any variation thereof. Not. EYEBROWS." Fullstop.

In response to this Alfred laughed.

"Chill out dude! Though seriously those things are huge!" he chirped.

Taking a deep breath and mentally counting back from ten so as to at least explain his reason for calling Alfred before he throttled the child - because Alfred was still his child regardless of whether he was 12, 20 or 80 years old-, Arthur asked:

"Do you not want to know why I called you in the first place?"

"Like duh, but if you insist," here Alfred straightened his posture, tucked his hands behind his back, cleared his throat and said in his best imitation of a British Accent, "Please, Father, Proceed."

Inwardly rolling his eyes at his son's display of drama, he did as requested.

"Do you remember when I mentioned that I had managed to slip an application letter past the checkpoint?" Arthur asked.

Alfred nodded, slightly puzzled as well as a bit apprehensive. Did this mean that..?

"I got a reply this morning." was the response, which was met with a widening of blue eyes.

"They accepted it?!" Alfred exclaimed, letting his posture drop, already planning what their move was going to be once they got out and into the city.

And yet another part of him was dreading the response: What if he had been turned down? What then? Would they continue to wallow here? What if the council found out about their little secret?

And yet the thought of that 'little secret' made his heart warm for a brief moment. Despite the fact that she wasn't his, Alfred loved his (unofficially) adopted daughter, Ariana, dearly. But back on track now.

"Yes. Yes they did. They expect us within a week; I turn out three days after that time. They have a house ready for us with 'all modern amenities' fit for three. The rent for the house doesn't look that bad and it comes out of my salary so that's one less thing I have to remember to pay. Apparently I get a car too - After I retake the test to get my license renewed but the idea stands. "

Woah.

"Cool!" exclaimed the blue-eyed blond.

Needless to say, Alfred hadn't expected all that. He knew they were going to get a place to stay but he thought it would be a small thing like those apartments he heard about.

Maybe he'd finally get some time for himself and Ariana. Or even get to adopt her officially! Although she'd probably be his sister or something instead of his daughter, but that was okay. Now he was really hoping he didn't have to work long hours.

A part of his mind whispered that it wasn't a good idea to get his hopes up but he ignored it for now. He didn't want to spoil the good mood. He'd think about those things later.

"When do we start packing?!" Alfred asked excitedly, jumping up and down and causing his brown/blond hair to shine under the sun's dying light.

Arthur chuckled at his son's enthusiasm.

"I believe we can start about five days from now - so we can double check the day before." he replied. It wasn't like they had much to pack. Just the essentials. And a few toys and pictures but Arthur counted those things as essentials too.

After shooing his excited son off with a warning/reminder to not let people find out about Ariana (though he doubted Alfred needed it), Arthur made himself as comfortable as he could be and double checked the contents of the letter.

'Alright so we start packing on the 9th, leave on the 10th at around noon and we should be there by 2 to 2:30 pm. I start work on the 12th, so I should probably ask about good colleges in the area for Alfred before September starts.'

Hopefully there was one with space still available. Ariana would have to stay at a day-care until Alfred picked her up. He didn't know whether or not to be thankful that the place wouldn't be as busy as New York City. He felt that would be a bit too overwhelming for the sunny young man.

Of course having Ariana around meant he had another thing to add to his list: Getting her officially adopted.

She had shown up about two months ago covered in soot, twigs and leaves and with her clothes torn. It wasn't hard to guess where she'd come from.

There had been a big fire somewhere to the west of the village and they assumed no one survived. Although Arthur couldn't go to see it himself, he had heard tell from the other villagers...well not directly as most of the people considered it a bit of a social taboo to talk to them unless it couldn't be helped. Even Arthur's in-laws had left him. And what little family he had couldn't be found, _incidentally_.

When she had first arrived, they were planning on turning her over to the village authorities but some screams, many tears and Alfred and Arthur being christened 'Dad' and 'Grandpa' respectively ensured that they kept their silence as the council would never allow Alfred to be a dad owing to his status as unwedded...or that would be the village head's excuse at least.

It was no secret among the 'Elite' as the richest members of the village were jokingly called, that the current head of the village, Jared Sullivan, despised Arthur and by default anyone that shared his blood as well.

What _was_ a secret was his reason for hating Arthur. It was generally believed his hostility stemmed from Arthur's position as an 'outsider', that meaning someone who came from another location and managed to 'worm' their way into one of the village's wealthiest families (They also believed that 'God's punishment had been bestowed upon him' when his and his wife's personal fortune started dwindling. Go figure.)

The truth was that Sullivan had abused his then newfound power to secretly rob Arthur of what his wife had left him in her will and, through rumours, ensured that he had been practically abandoned by his in-laws and barely made enough to feed himself and Alfred. All while Arthur was still grieving.

And to think, Arthur seethed, he had trusted that bastard, not knowing that the man had harboured 'affections' for his dear, beautiful Elise Kirkland (nee Jones) , which had turned into a raging jealousy that he had chosen to act upon.

To make matters worse, _he _had made sure that neither Arthur nor Alfred could leave the village and still hope to have a financially secure future and had ensured that, should they chance their luck, they would not be welcomed back.

Arthur had, of course, been informed of all this via the bastard's gloating after he had been discredited, away from prying ears.

Contacts, who just happened to have _people_ in most of the largest companies in the city, had seemingly made sure of Arthur's bad luck in the job market.

God knows he had tried and tried to land a job somewhere. _Anywhere_ where he was not in danger of being killed and care for Alfred was good enough. Nevermind if he ended up having to skip a few meals for the child's sake- he was already doing that -without Alfred's knowing of course. The boy would have, for lack of better words, a bitch fit.

Luckily, not all the villagers were such _gullible simpletons _who believed whatever gossip they were told

A little while after Ariana showed up, Arthur had managed to slip another Application Letter out with one of the few friends he had, for a job she had said was available and best suited for him. The benefits and pay was good, he had been told, enough for the two of them and then some. The fact that she knew the owner personally also had a little something to do with Arthur's rekindled spirits.

'Now, now Arthur' he thought to himself, 'Enough focusing on the past. Time to focus on the future.'

First things first though. Making sure Alfred cooked actual _food _for dinner tonight and not ramen or those artery-clogging, heart attacks on buns he called burgers or other things in that category. Even if, as Alfred somewhat rightfully protested, the latter 'were cheaper and it's not like we're feeding it to Ariana as well.'

If there was one thing they made sure of, it was that she, at least, got proper meals when they could afford it

But tonight, he figured it was high time for a small treat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's Chapter Two everyone! **

**Again Thanks to Willowfur and Piper for beta-ing **

Chapter 2

"Alfred, slow down!" Arthur called impatiently, panting as he struggled to keep up with his son who was running up onto the furnished porch (just a bench and side table) to the door of their new house, bag pack on his shoulders and excitement plain as day on his slightly tanned, bespectacled face.

"How 'bout you speed up Pops?" Alfred called back, smiling, clutching the handles of two other bagpacks in his fist. Ariana giggled next to him clad in a cream-colored tee and a rather ragged pair of jeans. Her 'father' wasn't much better off but the bomber jacket he had gotten from his mother hid the worst of it.

He would really need to buy them new clothes after he had gotten paid.

'Food first though' he reminded himself. He doubted the food he asked Elizaveta to stock the house with would last long. He would have to remember to pay her back after his first paycheck...so many expenses and he hadn't even gotten the damn thing yet.

With a sigh, Arthur did as his son requested, his olive-green jacket flapping slightly in the wind.

It was a pale orange-cream coloured, two storied affair complete with white-bordering, matching windows and an off-white door, a front porch overlooking neatly trimmed grass and a textured, cemented walkway with a small garage attached to the side.

'Rather cozy-looking', Arthur thought, 'well...the outside anyways.' He wasn't really one to judge a book by its cover. Even if the size of the house did throw him for a loop (if only slightly). If this was what his employer considered 'fit for three', he didn't know if he wanted to see what was considered fit for an entire family (complete with both parents, siblings and a pet)...or maybe his dear friend was friendlier with his boss than she let on.

By normal standards though , he supposed the house wasn't really that big. But living in a practically broken-down shack for the past two decades had seemingly taken a toll of sorts on him.

And now that he actually thought about it, this would either work or be too small for a full-sized city family...it depended.

But the rent he was paying for it was...well it was insanely cheap by his standards.

Walking up to the door, he unlocked it and the three of them entered.

-xx-

Arthur heard Alfred give a low whistle as they surveyed the inside of the bottom flat of the house.

After leaving their shoes on the rack by the door and Alfred's jacket in the closet, they walked into the living room which, unlike the cream-colored foyer was layered in a rich, textured chocolate brown with a beige bordering on the walls, entrances and the window to the east of a rather lavish fireplace, in front of which, a brown-gold glass table, plush cocoa loveseat and single chair with accompanying side table, were placed. There was also a small flatscreen television above the fireplace, the latter of which was really just for show as the house had working AC and heating.

When Arthur actually took the time to consider it, the living room was actually rather small. Whoever had furnished and painted the room knew what they were doing.

"This place is huge!" Alfred exclaimed beside Arthur, making him jump.

But...what's this room for?" He then continued, turning to his father, confusion on his face. " The only thing you can do in here is sit down...so eating? Rather big for that. And that's the skinny television you told me about, right?"

Lips twitching downwards in slight sorrow, Arthur opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted.

"DADDY LOOK! Bouncy!"

They looked to see Ariana bouncing up and down on the chair cushions; delight in her dark eyes and giggles emerging from chestnut-colored lips.

Alfred chuckled and walked over, smiling, and caught his daughter mid-bounce.

"Yes hun – bouncy. Now stop that before you hurt yourself and make daddy and grandpa worry." Said the bespectacled man, holding her close to him.

"Alright" she replied, distracted by what she termed the big shiny box on the wall.

"Daddy, what's that box?" she pointed to the flat screen.

"Television." Alfred responded, glancing at his father for confirmation.

Arthur nodded. "Flat Screen." The elder clarified, as the only television Alfred had ever seen was the CRT one from the 1980s his (only and secret) friend, Mariska, had.

Practically everything technology wise that wasn't outdated was owned by the families of the village council in that village and those in their favor. And no one ever questioned it.

Well, none on or below the poverty line ever did. They were either too busy trying to bring food to the table to care or too intimidated to go above hushed whispers...the fact that they were a rather small group played a factor in that as well.

At least he knew the basics of operating a computer...even if the piece rightfully belonged in an antique store.

"-ad? Daaaad? HEY POPS!"

Alfred's shout snapped him out of his thoughts. He could only hope this wouldn't happen at work - He'd be fired on the first day.

"Oh sorry Alfred. I was –"

"Being the old man you are. Yeah, yeah. Anyways shall we go see the rest of the place now?" Alfred gestured to an entrance through which the sound of running feet could be discerned.

"At this rate, Ariana will end up being our guide."

Arthur smiled at this and they proceeded to follow the sound of footsteps and squeals through the first entrance to the dining room which was sectioned off from the kitchen by a small wall with grid shelves at the top.

The colors in these rooms however, were beige with chocolate brown borders instead with some gold designs to make things a little brighter .

The dining set was a five person affair which, like the rest of the furniture they saw so far, had very detailed engravings and were color-coordinated to fit the rooms.

'And sturdy.' Arthur thought, rapping his fingers against the wood. Everything he checked so far was top notch. It was nice to know living in a place that was practically falling apart for so long hadn't robbed him of those senses at least.

"Daddy that's pretty!" Ariana cried out, pointing to the small gold flower chandelier above the dining set.

"Yeah hon, it is." Alfred agreed and then whispered/hissed to Arthur, "I thought you said the rent was cheap!"

"It is!" Arthur defended in the same volume. "I read some of the brochures Elizaveta brought back before she approached her... friend about the matter. The rent for this is a bit more than a mid-range apartment. Rather hard to believe though."

"Better find out the conditions then. I doubt even Lizzy can get you a deal this sweet for so little" His son mumbled.

Arthur gave a nod. If the rest of the place was anywhere this stylish he would. Because the furnishings for one, were definitely _not _fromIKEA unless the place was suddenly selling brand name sets.

'Size of the place be damned. These things aren't cheap.' Arthur thought. It was already looking like some rich kid's mini getaway/safe house and they were only in the second room.

The kitchen consisted of a stove, microwave, pantry (overhead and lower) and a sink on a chestnut marble countertop as well as a dishwasher next to the sink and a fridge at the end of the counter.

Not too small, not too big.

Now for the upstairs. The basement could wait for later.

'The attic too for that matter.' Arthur thought, as the three went up the stairs. He wouldn't trouble Alfred with going up there. One too many horror stories had given the poor boy a slight phobia of what he considered 'dark, creepy spaces'.

The basement, however, was going to have to be a must for Alfred. Arthur had the feeling the lad would be back to doing most of the housework until he could find a trustworthy housekeeper.

Especially if the rumours of one of Arthur's colleagues-to-be turning down Arthur's new job because of the potential long hours were true. And it was already a nine-hour-a-day job.

"Alright Alfred, Ari - go pick a room."

The aforementioned two quickly dashed up and down the small hallway, exploring what lay behind the five doors.

The fifth at the end of the hallway was left untouched after Alfred had opened it to reveal a flight of stairs, found no light switch at the bottom and promptly freaked out when a cold gust of wind came from what was now dubbed 'Spook Central'. God help whoever took him to a horror film.

Arthur was surprised the resulting vibrations from the door being slammed shut (and Alfred's screams too for that matter) didn't cause everything breakable to break. He also made a mental note to put whatever he didn't want Alfred to find up there...and to find that light switch.

"Ok we claim the room next to the bathroom, dude!" Alfred yelled from the mentioned room.

Arthur nodded. "Keep it tidy, Alfred, if Ariana is going to be rooming with you." He spoke and entered the room opposite theirs.

"Will do!" responded the cheery blond from the room.

With a chuckle, Arthur went into his room to unpack what he had brought.

-xx-

"Daddyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Ariana squealed, latching onto his leg like a limpet the minute the door closed, encasing them in the ruby-colored walls of their new bedroom.

"Yes Ari?" Blue eyes peered down at the pitch-black ovals that were shining with excitement, a curtain of dark hair framing her face.

She just giggled, clinging tighter to his leg.

With a chuckle, Alfred hobbled over to the double bed and placed his and Ariana's bags and on the Royal Purple comforter.

As his fingers brushed against the fabric, he paused and took it between his fingers, feeling the fabric of the comforter. Satin. And, if the labels were to be believed, the rest of the sheet set was Pure Egyptian Cotton.

He _really_ had to remind his dad to get the terms and conditions of their stay here straightened out.

"Alright darling, off you get." He spoke, prying his daughter off his leg and setting her down on the bed, settling himself next to her to get a good look around.

The furniture in the room comprised of the bed (obviously), a dresser, closet, two bedside tables and a small writing desk – all polished in a shining dark red.

'Well obviously it would be shining. Polish does that.' Alfred thought.

Ariana, meanwhile, was busy emptying all the contents of their bag packs onto the bed.

Glancing down to his daughter, Alfred asked "What are you doing?"

Sparing a glance at the blond male she replied, "Unpacking. Grandpa says we need to tidy up. And he says I have to make sure you listen." She gave him a smile.

A smile that would have been innocent had it been coming from anyone else. But right now, it just looked devious.

Downright Evil if Alfred had anything to say about it. Just like the one his dad got sometimes.

Apparently she had been taught more than just proper grammar.

In response, Alfred huffed and began putting away their stuff.

"I swear you're like a seven year old version of dad sometimes. " he muttered " But don't go getting any ideas."

She stuck her tongue out at the warning.

Alfred responded by mock-snapping at it, which made her start laughing so hard she fell back down on the bed.

His to-be-adopted daughter was really a puzzle sometimes. Alfred smiled. He'd manage. They always did.

-xx-

"-fred. Alfred! Come on lad, wake up!"

Alfred groaned and pushed away the hand that was shaking him back to consciousness.

"...Alfred! Unless you want me cooking dinner, you had better get up!"

Pause.

"NOOOO! I WANT TO LIVE!" Alfred yelled, hurtling out of the bed and stumbling down the staircase in his hurry (and drowsiness) to get to the kitchen with a little girl's squealing laughter following him all the way down.

Of course he took a wrong turn and went into the living room first but it was practically a miracle that he remembered he was in a new house to begin with.

Must have been the bed. It was actually comfortable instead of a backache-inducing piece of sponge with torn sheets. Although in his old bed's defence it was the floor's fault. And Arthur wasn't in Alfred's head to defend the poor floor.

And all of this was giving him a slight headache.

'Wash face first. Focus later.' He thought, going to the kitchen sink to do exactly that.

The splash of cool water on his face managed to wake him up and he then rummaged through the pantry to find something to cook for dinner.

That something turned out to be Spaghetti.

After removing what he needed, Alfred did a scan of everything in the pantry and then the fridge.

His eye twitched.

'Note to self: Find the _cheapest_ food items when going grocery shopping.'

Because if the _all,_ or even_ most,_ of the pantry's and fridge's contents were the most economical around Alfred could see all their potential Hard Times savings go boom. And not the good type of boom either.

With those thoughts, he started on dinner.

-xx-

"Alfred." Arthur called from the living room, "Lad could you come here for a minute?"

After dinner, Alfred had put Ariana to bed and the two of them had started on the dishes.

That being done, Arthur was taking a small break while Alfred was doing god knows what in the rest of their house.

The sound of footsteps signalled Alfred's arrival.

'Well at least he's trying to be quiet.' Arthur thought.

"You called pops?" Alfred asked, running into the room (which he had found out was for nothing more than lazing around – lucky rich people) and plopping down onto the loveseat.

Ignoring the nickname, Arthur responded. "Yes, actually. Have you considered what kind of career you would like to have?"

If it was anything with heavy Technology- or Science-use he would have to help get Alfred up to scratch with them. Anything in any other field was ok .

That piece of crap the Council called High School was good for something at least.

Although if any of the other villagers {see: friends of the Elite} were asked, the school was more than sufficient for their children who intended to continue study elsewhere. Typical.

But enough with that.

"Um...why do you ask? I'll just take whichever job accepts me won't I?" Alfred enquired, puzzled. Did his father ask Lizzy to find some places for him to work?

Oh well, saves him the trouble.

"Err...no, lad. At most you will be taking a part time job for some work experience- nothing more. Preferably somewhere on campus or on the way home."

Campus? Wait...

"Campus? You mean like – College?" Was he nuts?! College Programs were like _**über**___expensive! Couldn't that wait for like _after _Arthur had properly adjusted?

He expressed these concerns to his father who quickly shot them down saying "It's better to attend sooner rather than later. You adjust to the flow of things easier and you've spent enough time away from a proper study schedule as it is – Two years as a matter of fact. And as for the money we'll apply for a loan which I will assist you in paying off when I can. But you _will_ be attending college." End of Story.

Alfred just gaped at him.

"There's a rather good college two blocks or so away from here that's fairly cheap, I've been told. I'll pick up a brochure and bring it home for you when I get back from work day after tomorrow, agreed?"

Alfred sighed and murmured his agreement. When his father made up his mind there was no stopping him. At least he had until September (two months roughly) at earliest to prepare himself.

-xx-

Arthur sighed in contentment as he relaxed against the pillows, cool satin sheets of his bed draped over his waist.

Now that convincing Alfred to go to college sooner rather than later was over with, he had to focus on the next task – getting Ariana officially adopted.

That was going to be difficult as they had no idea of knowing whether or not she had any relatives looking for her. Arthur, at least, hadn't heard anything.

He asked Elizaveta if she knew anything and the woman had responded in the negative.

"I've got a friend who could help you find out though. He's a Police Officer." She had told him after Ariana had run into her accidently, thus leading her to ask them who the young girl was.

But he would need a picture of her or, preferably, be able to see her in person which had the benefit of him being able to question her about her - 'Biological.' thought Arthur - family.

Seeing as Arthur would have been leaving a week after this news was delivered, he figured it best to let the officer see her face-to-face.

'But now,' mused Arthur, 'is time for sleep.' He could deal with that tomorrow after his driving test.

(Which he was confident he would ace as he had read the book cover to cover and neither the laws nor the roads had changed much since he had been gone.)

With that thought, he ventured into the land of dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok here's chapter three people! If you've noticed any plot holes let me know please! And also - pRussia (Russia tops) or RoChu? Let me know in a review eh :) Thanks to all readers and reviewers (especially the reviewers).**

**And also thanks to Willowfur and Piper for betaing!**

Chapter 3

"Alfred, Alfred wake up!"

The mentioned blond groaned and pulled the silken covers up higher.

This turned out to be a mistake when what felt like a wrecking ball promptly made contact with his midsection.

Alfred yelped, sitting up to be met with his laughing daughter, in a sparkling purple tee and blue jeans, perched happily on the bed and his father smirking near the door dressed in a brand new pea-green suit.

"What?" The blond groaned, rubbing his abdomen and wondering how he had managed to sleep through his alarm. He also made a mental note to check how much his dearly beloved daughter weighed.

"You need to take Ariana to see Officer Vash again today, remember?"

Alfred sighed and replied that he remembered and was going to get ready, pulling himself out of bed as they left the room to reheat last night's leftovers for breakfast before Arthur had to leave for work.

Of course.

The officer had called them yesterday, saying that he had found information on Ariana and wanted her and an adult to be present.

Information which would, no doubt, include if she had any living relatives to care for her.

Alfred couldn't help but hope she didn't, as much as he hated himself for being so selfish.

Groaning, he began getting dressed.

-xx-

As he left for work in his shiny, new, company-gifted Honda Civic Coupe (he was shocked when he saw it too), Arthur couldn't help the anxiety that made its presence known in his head.

He, like Alfred, was nervous about the outcome of Alfred's meeting although, unlike Alfred, he wasn't the least bit guilty about wanting Ariana back home with them.

Who knew if her relatives would actually take good care of her instead of treating her, more or less, like a slave, as Arthur had seen some of the wealthier ones back in the village do to the...less fortunate, shall we say?

He wasn't willing to have take that chance but unless Ariana outright refused to stay with anyone else, he was powerless against whoever else there was.

'Calm down, Arthur. Focus on the road.' He thought. No need to have any accidents now.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on getting to his workplace in one piece before his boss could accuse him of being late.

However, whether or not his boss would be leaving work with all pieces intact at the end of the day was still to be seen.

The French, after all, weren't exactly known for their manners.

Arthur, in contrast, was known for both his manners and his fiery temper (which, in his defence, was only shown when he was provoked repeatedly and thus a suitable punishment for the poor offender).

Let it be known that Francis Bonnefoy was a master in the Art of Provocation.

-xx-

A pale hand gently placed a wine glass filled near to the brim with chilled Dom Pérignon down onto a polished desk made of pure Ebony.

Aquamarine-Blue Eyes observed the golden liquid as the bubbles made their way up to the surface of the liquid before bursting, sending a sweet, if sharp, scent into the air.

Francis Bonnefoy smiled and breathed deeply, his eyes slipping closed, and let the smell of Vintage Wine fill his nostrils. It wasn't a crime to savour someone else's creations every once in a while.

Life was pure bliss at the moment.

And it would be even better when his new Assistant arrived.

The smile on smooth, pink lips turned...somewhat predatory.

Despite those hideous eyebrows and his constant grumpy demeanour, Arthur Kirkland was an interesting person to be around. And cute too.

Francis chuckled thinking of how, when teased, the other blond would turn the most delightful shade of pink and vehemently deny the latter, all the while proclaiming Francis a wine-guzzling, perverted frog and other such things, the latter being done at least twice per day as had seemingly been the Brit's quota since he started settling down in the company. (And, admittedly, since Francis had seen fit to up the number of 'inappropriate' hugs and touches he gave his new PA thus deeming him a keeper and a person of interest to the rest of his employees).

As his eyes aligned on a smooth black Civic Coupe pulling into the employees' parking through the one way window to his side, his eyes lit up. He took a sip from the glass in front of him, thinking how best to demonstrate his interest to his irritable PA today.

As Arthur stepped out of the Coupe and walked into the building, Francis' phone rang.

Blinking, he slipped his iPhone out of his pocket and, checking the caller ID, answered cheerily.

"Mon Petit Matthieu, finally awake I see"

The person on the other end yawned and responded, "Qui Papa, I am having breakfast as we speak. You arrived at work ok? No exes throwing shoes or anything at you?" The amusement in his son's voice was clear as he posed the question.

Francis laughed. "Non, nothing like that. A few harsh words may be in my near future but nothing too much more than that."

A sigh was heard, then "Who is it this time?" with a joking, "And how are they so tolerant?"

"His name is Arthur Kirkland, my new PA. And as for him being tolerant...well that is not the exact wording I would use. He _is_ British, if that explains any."

"Ah. Not quite what you would go for Papa...well the men anyways. But Good Luck. Oh and Ms. Tewari says Thanks for the recommendation, she has been accepted by the company in Belgium and is settling in nicely. I'll never know why you gave her my email address instead of yours."

Francis chuckled, taking another sip of wine – the glass was almost empty now. "It's not like she doesn't know it's yours. And she'll probably never contact you again if it helps any. I think it was love at first sight with their PR manager at the conference." Ganeshwari had definitely been something. If her leave hadn't brought Arthur here he might have regretted letting her go – there was something to be said for efficiency after all.

And Speak of the Devil and He shall Appear...well it was close enough. The look on Arthur Kirkland's face as the door slammed open, while endearing in its own way (to Francis at least), would've probably made the Devil wet himself.

"I have to go Matthieu. Business calls." They said their goodbyes and he hung up.

"And what brings you here so early Arthur? Did you miss me?" Cue charming smile.

"You wish frog. And what's this rumour you're spreading about us being 'together'?! Is that even allowed? Why would you do that anyways? And will you quit smirking at me for the love of Queen and Country!?"

The latter sentence was almost yelled.

"Mon ami, I have do not know which rumour you speak of. And yes, as long as it doesn't affect the workers' rights to fair treatment, it is, in this company. As stated before, I did no such thing. And no, Lapin, I will not stop smirking at you." True to his last statement, he never did. He may have fibbed a bit on the first one though – he had suspected the resident BL fans were cooking up something about the two them.

To their credit, Francis hadnever really shown this much interest in anyone after his ex-wife and he had divorced about a bit more than five years ago (on friendly terms – They had no problem meeting up with each other if the occasion called for it).

Oh don't get him wrong, he did have some relationships but they never lasted more than a few months and never took much effort to make to begin with. And thus, Francis would, inevitably, get bored of them.

In response to his statements, Arthur blushed, muttered that he was a liar and, after warning Francis against any more 'inappropriate touches', he left the office presumably to begin the paperwork Francis had given him. Francis didn't really mind what Arthur did with his spare time as long as he got his work done properly.

Francis took the time to admire his PA's rear as he stalked out.

'Hmm...he needs tighter clothes.' He thought, finishing his glass of wine. Those slacks did next-to-nothing for the Briton's figure. Maybe he should buy some for him and then get him to wear it to a Halloween Party or something.

'That's actually a good idea.' Not that all of his ideas weren't good. But this one was better than most.

As he was getting into his car (a rather luxurious chrome Ferrari Enzo) to leave that afternoon he realised something - he really should remember to inform Arthur about their trip to Paris in two weeks. He, for one, always made sure to personally approve each batch of grapes before they started using them to make Wine. And getting a second opinion was just ensuring that things went even smoother.

Because if you loved something enough, merely distributing it just wasn't satisfactory. And he could get the Brit's costume there if all went well.

Now, however, was the time to focus on getting home quickly (and safely) before his son's rambunctious friends drank all his wine and liquor and ate him out of house and home. As impossible as that might have seemed, he learned the hard way not to put anything past a certain Dane and (self-proclaimed) Prussian.

-xx-

"Alfred, Ari, I'm home!" Arthur called, much later than he was supposed to be, pushing the door shut. He was slightly apprehensive about how many people would be answering him.

So when an excited shout of "Grandpa!" reached his ears, followed by running footsteps, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He scooped the little girl into his arms as she ran towards him full throttle.

"And how are you this afternoon, my dear?" he inquired, and made his way into the kitchen where, from the smell of things, Alfred was reheating dinner.

"It's night-time, grandpa! Me and daddy had a snack when we got home because he said you'd probably be late again and he started reading those books you got him!" she informed him.

"Daddy and I" Arthur corrected, he couldn't help but suspect that she messed up her grammar just for kicks. "You didn't have to wait, Alfred." He nodded to plates of Sautéed Chicken and Vegetables over rice Alfred had set out on the table.

Alfred scoffed. "And have my _daughter _glare at me all the time? Don't be ridiculous Iggy. "The emphasis on the word was certainly noted. Apparently things had gone well with Officer Vash.

"So everything's alright then?"

His inquiry was met with a snort from the bespectacled blond.

"Of course everything's fine. The Hero took care of it." This was accompanied by a flash of white teeth that looked better suited for a Colgate commercial. Let it not be said that Arthur's family did not care about hygiene, despite whatever they may have faced.

Arthur smiled. Alfred hadn't referred to himself as 'The Hero' since he was about five or six (give or take a few). Time and Circumstance had taken their tolls and honestly, Arthur was glad to hear it again.

Maybe he wouldn't have _such _a hard time adapting to things after all if he managed to keep up his attitude, Arthur thought, remembering how well Alfred had taken to learning about the transport means (as a scheduled bus was a big leap from travelling on foot) as well as almost every electronic device in the house – most notably, the desktop computer . Arthur had taken the liberty to buy some textbooks for Alfred to study- he was already halfway through the first one. And it had only been a week.

"Well," The Brit started, putting those worries out of his head (for now) and setting Ariana down, "Enough dilly-dallying. Let's have dinner." And sat down ignoring the "About time." that Alfred jokingly muttered.

-xx-

Meanwhile, in the Bonnefoy household, Matthew was lounging on the plush, crimson couch, intent on ignoring the chaos happening around him.

"GIMME BACK MY BEER YOU- "was followed by some rather unsavoury German which Matthew didn't bother trying to translate. He was trying to ignore it after all.

The crash that followed however demanded his attention.

"Whatever you broke, you're paying for it." He yelled, silencing the laughter that followed.

"Relax birdie," Matthew's right eye twitched at the nickname. "It was a cheap vase. Old Franny probably didn't like it anyway."

The red-eyed Ger- Prussian (_excuse_ his near-error) gestured to the bits and pieces of what was (truthfully) a rather gaudy vase. While Francis would be pleased the gift was broken, letting his minions (s_laves)_ know that would prove rather counter-productive. And much less amusing.

"And how would you know that dear Gilbert?" Matthew's words, spoken with all the cool essence of his Arctic homeland, was followed by a smile that would freeze Hell. "Clean it up. You _and _Mathias. No one is to help them."

The last sentence was directed to all others present. That was: the servants, Berwald Oxenstierna (a Swede), Ivan Braginski (a Russian exchange student), Carlos Machado (a Cuban Transfer student) and a Turkish American by the name of Sadiq Adnan.

While the (numerous) servants could've done the cleaning up instead, this, in Matthew's opinion, was far funnier.

Knowing better than to disobey, as Matthew had proved to be rather..._lethal, _for lack of a better word, when armed with a Hockey Stick in the past, the albino and Dane hurried to obey. Not that the violet-eyed, (Completely Natural) Platinum Blond had killed anyone. He just terrifying enough that you would believe he had. When he wanted to be, that is.

Gilbert remembered a time when he was as sweet and innocent as a stereotypical angel. Then Puberty hit.

My, how things change.

And Matthew apparently decided terrifying them was funnier than indulging them. Of course he still had his moments, but they were few and a bit far in between. A bit.

That, however, didn't stop everyone from sticking around. Being together (regardless of distance – blessed are those who invented video chatting.) since they learned to talk had that effect on people. And his mother-hen moments were kind of endearing too.

By the time the duo were finished cleaning the mess, Francis arrived downstairs, his pyjama pants the only sign he had been sleeping.

"How much poorer am I today?"He asked, covering a yawn with his hand.

"Not much. Just broke a vase. They cleaned it up." Carlos spoke, thumbing through an issue of _Sports Illustrated - Swimsuit Edition _he'd found lying around. He knew it couldn't be Matt's – the guy was fruiter than Fruit Punch. All those girls just weren't his thing.

And Francis...well he was Francis. No need for pictures when the real deals were throwing themselves at your feet.

Most likely it was Gilbert's, Mathias' or one of the hired help's. Not that it mattered much.

"Finally up, Papa?" the bespectacled blond asked, finally getting off the couch and stretching. The sound of bones cracking made Carlos wince. He thanked God for the fact that the blond played sports because he sure as hell had never stepped foot in a gym.

"Mon petit, you speak as if all I do is sleep." Francis said with a pout.

Matthew's smirk was retort enough.

Carlos gave an eye-roll and announced that he going snack-hunting. His announcement was quickly followed by requests for various types of artery-clogging, teeth-rotting treats.

Carlos decided he would have been better off keeping his mouth shut.

-xx-

As soft red and yellow hues graced the Earth with their glow, flowers woke from their slumber, a slight rise of stems prompted soft, silken petals to greet the Morning's Light with their beauty and mild, sweet scents. Chirps and caws also filled the air to signal the beginning of a new day filled with hopes and possibilities which, one would hope, would lead to a favourable close for all.

The Chirping and Cawing, not to mention the sunlight peeking through a certain pair of French Lilac drapes also had the benefit rousing Alfred Kirkland from sleep's clutches. Or detriment really, depending on how you looked at it.

Let it be stated that Alfred was most certainly _not _seeing the bright side of the situation (no pun intended) and most likely would not until he had showered and woken up properly.

With a couple of yawns and some decidedly cat-like stretching, Alfred hauled himself out of bed to finish his morning routine and get started on breakfast before his dad woke up, even if his alarm wasn't set to go off for another ten minutes.

Normally, Arthur would leave at 7:30am and to get to work at eight, which meant Alfred wouldn't have to be up until 7:00am.

This morning, however, Arthur wanted to look at some of the daycares in the area for Ariana to stay at after Alfred started college in roughly a month-and-a-half. He claimed socializing with other children would be good for her and Alfred agreed. It would also work out cheaper than a babysitter and they needed every cent they could get.

So it was rise and shine as early as possible for Alfred as Arthur wanted to be out of the house by 6:30am at the latest. Alfred would have gone himself but Arthur had shot that down before Alfred had even opened his mouth, saying that Alfred could use the morning for studying instead and thus avoid having to wake Ariana up early to go with him. Alfred had relented at that last point.

Walking into the kitchen while towel-drying his hair, Alfred started putting out the ingredients for the omelettes he had decided to make with his recipe book propped against the toaster Arthur had bought.

Alfred had argued that his frying pan did an adequate job of toasting the bread and the new accessory was unnecessary and waste of money. Arthur responded that (1) It was his money and couldn't he treat himself once in awhile? and (2) Ariana liked the toaster better.

And it was already established that, where his daughter's and father's happiness was concerned, Alfred was a complete and utter push-over. 'Easy Pickings' could have (and had) been applied to Alfred at that point in time.

Just because Arthur felt like it, apparently.

'Why am I thinking about that anyways?' Alfred thought, throwing the towel on a chair back and pulling out the frying pan. Boredom does strange things. Oh well.

While making the second omelette, Alfred realised that, unless he wanted everyone to get food poisoning, he'd have to wake up sooner (that is, 6 AM bright and early )to cook breakfast to finish before Arthur was ready to leave for work and be done in time for nine. And no more mid-day/early afternoon naps either. Or baths at 1 PM.

Alfred sighed, using the spatula to flip the now slightly burnt omelette. The extra hours were good while they had lasted at least.

"C'mon Al, cheer up. You've still got a few weeks to snooze." He muttered to himself, depositing the semi-crispy stuffed- egg on a plate. He'd take that one for himself.

It was only after he had finished setting the table that Alfred realised he'd forgotten the coffee...and tea.

Cancel that last statement. The extra morning hours stop...the day after tomorrow. Because, honestly he didn't think he would manage to start from tonight.

And he had only been sleeping in for...a week? A week and a half?

Alfred started boiling the tea bags and mixing his instant coffee wondering mournfully how so short a time of sleeping in managed to trump years of greeting (or nearly so) the sunrise.

He hoped the remainder of the day would not be filled with such disheartening ponderings for lack of a better description. And his acting like a drama queen. Even if it was just in his head.

-xx-

"Daaaad!"

The yell pierced the relatively quiet atmosphere of the house, making Alfred look up from where he was just pulling the clothes out of the dryer.

He felt like such a housewife at times.

'House-_husband_.' Alfred corrected, heading to where he presumed the yell originated, namely the living room.

Because of this, on the few times people had bothered to acknowledge him back in the village, he had been giggled at. _Giggled._ By girls, obviously. And a few women.

To this day he didn't know what he should take that as.

"You called, Ari?"

He was surprised to see his daughter with an open bag pack at her feet.

"Can we go out?" was asked by the little fox in the cutest voice she could muster.

He inwardly sighed, but nodded. You couldn't keep her in the house forever.

"A little later though. I have to pack the clothes first." He figured it wasn't that big a deal if he missed out on studying for one day.

His response was met with a pout.

"How long?" Ari asked.

"Hmmm...about an hour/ hour-and-a-half. So put that bag back on the couch."

"Awwwwwww." But she did as requested.

The fetching and folding did not, however, take quite as long as anticipated and they were heading out the door within the hour.


	4. Chapter 4

**Apologies for the short chapter and long wait, but I was sick for a little while. Will try to get Chapter 5 out faster.**

**Oh and this is unbeta'ed so all mistakes are my own! Please let me know if you find any! R&R please!**

Chapter 4

The air outside, while not exactly hot, was humid enough to make Alfred wish he had not worn such a thick shirt but not enough to actually make him go back home and change. And it was mid-afternoon too.

In an almost contrast, Ariana, dressed in a loose emerald t-shirt and jeans, did not seem to mind and was practically bouncing on her heels in excitement as she walked.

Alfred shook his head slightly as he walked alongside her. Children were so excitable and full of energy. A trip to the park would do them both some good.

If Alfred didn't know any better he would say this place had everything within walking distance. The layout of this city was unusual (for Alfred anyway).

The part in which they lived was mainly college-oriented with a few malls and businesses here and there but mainly residential in nature. A 45-minute drive towards the heart of the city, however, would lead one to a more city-like atmosphere complete with all the chaos that made a city what it was.

Alfred decided he preferred it right here.

As they entered the park the sounds of screaming, laughing children seemed to magnify.

With a nudge of encouragement, Ariana ran over to the sand box to ask the other children if she could join them. Alfred sat down on the nearest bench, a little ways to the end so as to not disturb the person already there.

Alfred thought he was dressed a little oddly for such a warm day at the park, but decided not to think about it too much as the stranger was rather absorbed in (what Alfred assumed to be) a novel, as the writing was in Spanish... or French. Alfred could never really tell.

The blond stranger was dressed in shiny white tee and jeans and had a red jacket over his lap. He was also wearing a pair of (enormous) sunglasses which had Alfred wondering how he could even see the words in the book he was reading. But the glasses didn't seem to be bothering him much as every now-and-again, he would reach up and tuck a rather errant curl of hair behind his ear.

His physique wasn't that bad either.

Realising he was staring, Alfred quickly averted his eyes, feeling himself blush. Just where had that last thought come from so suddenly? Thank God he wasn't noticed.

"Don't stop staring on my account, Darling. I assure you, I don't mind."

The words made Alfred jump slightly and his face got a bit redder. Damn it.

The stranger's voice was low and had a slight monotone to it. Alfred thought he heard a bit of an accent but he couldn't be sure.

Giving a slight groan, Alfred tried to think up a response to the misinterpreted...situation.

A little voice in his head told him to stop having a panic attack and talk already.

"I...I wasn't..." Wasn't what? Staring?

As if he was reading Alfred's thoughts, the stranger spoke, smiling. "Yes, you were. No need to be shy, Darling. As I said, I don't mind."

The stranger lifted a pale hand and tapped Alfred's nose with his index finger.

Alfred was sure that if he blushed any harder he would spontaneously combust. He could feel his eye twitch at the thought of his reactions thus far.

He forced the rest of himself to remain composed.

"Ok, so, maybe I was staring – but not for the reason you believe."

He mentally applauded himself for coming up with the response. That should clear things up.

The stranger, however, just smiled even wider.

"And how," the other man started, "would you know what I believe your reasons to be? I never stated anything."

Alfred could have smacked himself. A cute guy comes along and his brains turn to mush. Yes, he admitted the guy was cute (at least what he could see of him, what with the sunglasses). Alfred was, quite frankly, fed up of trying to shut that voice in his head up. It had already given him hell when he was younger (see: most of Puberty) so by now he was fairly certain he was at least Bi.

Thank God his father was so understanding.

Realising now was not the time to be analyzing his sexuality; Alfred channelled his efforts into thinking up a response.

"Umm...er..."

'Stranger' chuckled and held out a pale hand. "Name's Matthew, hun'."

Hesitantly, Alfred shook it. "Alfred." He purposely ignored the little nicknames the other added. Maybe he did that with everyone?

Str-_Matthew_ flashed a smile at and, after putting his book into a bagpack under the bench Alfred hadn't noticed, asked "That your sister?"

He nodded to Ari, who was busy helping the other kids to build a sandcastle, paying her father and his company absolutely no mind.

"Umm... no. My Daughter, actually."

Even behind the enormous sunglasses (well to Alfred anyways), Alfred could tell he was surprised at the very least.

"Oh? You're married?"

"Oh. No. I just adopted her... long story" he replied, adding the latter after a short pause. He really didn't want to give his life story to a stranger. Even a vague, shortened form of it.

"Ah. Out for a walk then? Though I can't say I blame you. Rather humid today."

Alfred groaned. "You can say that again. I feel like I'm in an oven."

The sunscreen on his skin was probably only making it worse. Luckily a cool breeze passed by every now and then. His shirt was probably going to be soaked in an hour or so.

"I really don't know how she can take it." He spoke, nodding towards Ariana.

Matthew shrugged. "Kids just have more endurance I think. Her skin color probably helps out a bit too."

Alfred pouted. "Lucky."

The two continued talking for quite awhile until Alfred noticed it was getting rather late.

"Ah. I should get going." Alfred spoke, taking a glance at the sky. "Chores and the like, you know. And Ari's probably a bit tired by now too."

True to Alfred's statement, the young girl was now sitting under a tree with a redhead, watching the few kids left playing. They'd probably be leaving soon too. When she saw him looking at her she waved and Alfred took the opportunity to beckon her over, gesturing to his watch, and turned back to Matthew.

"It was nice talking to you, Matthew. Maybe we'll meet up again sometime."

"And you as well, cher. Adieu."

Guessing he meant goodbye, Alfred smiled and nodded, taking hold of Ariana's hand as she ran up to him and walking away.

-xx-

Matthew sighed in disappointment as the other blond walked away. Pity that there were kids around or he might have just made his father proud...in the flirting aspect of things anyway. He was really more of one for talking things slow...until the third or fourth date if the relationship meant anything, at least. And of course if his partner was willing. (He actually had yet to find one that wasn't by then.)

He pouted. And Alfred was such a cute one too. Oh well. Hopefully they would meet up again. Without the kids around, that is.

He would definitely be looking forward to _that_.

Now, however was time for him to get home. His father had asked their chef to prepare _Coq au vin_ (rooster in red wine) for dinner with Belgian Chocolate Éclairs for dessert. And, of course, a few servings of Maple Pudding.

With his stomach growling just thinking about it, Matthew hurried home.


End file.
